When Stars Collide (Light in the Dark #2) (4 page)

But now that girl is merely a shadow. The Rae she is now smiles, laughs, and cracks jokes. She’s practically a whole new person, but I know this is the
real
Rae.

While Cade and Rae are lost in each other, Xander and I sidle up to the car and load our bags into the back. By the time we’re done, they’ve managed to break apart, but they’re both sporting the lusty eyes that make me gag. 

“How was your trip?” Rae asks.

“Exciting,” Xander answers.

Cade snorts. “If you call sitting in a room all day listening to a guy drone on and on about blueprints then, yeah, exciting.”

Rae laughs, her hand pressing against his chest as she smiles at him. “But you guys stayed the weekend. Surely that part was fun?”

Cade shrugs. “It would’ve been better if you were there.”

I mock-gag. “Stop,” I whine. “I can’t take it.”

Cade chuckles, his hand sliding to Rae’s waist, and nuzzles her neck. “Let’s go home.”

Those three words are the best thing I’ve heard all day, and I can’t get in the car fast enough. Xander gets in beside me and we’re silent the whole drive home, but Rae and Cade don’t notice since they never shut up. But I notice the silence, and there’s been too much of it between us today, and despite what Xander said about not wanting this marriage to change things between us, I can’t help but feel, and know in my gut, that it’s changed everything.

We get home, and almost immediately, Cade and Rae leave. After a week apart, they want alone time and they can’t really get that with two roommates, which leaves me alone in the house with my
husband
. How fucking weird is that?

Xander and I part ways in the hallway, but immediately bump into each other considering we share a Jack and Jill bathroom. We each unpack our bags in silence, and I swear I can feel each second ticking off in my head.

I put my toothbrush in the holder, right next to his, and look up at him. He’s so incredibly tall that I have to tilt my head back to really look at him and I’m by no means short. 

Crossing my arms over my chest, I say, “This is ridiculous.”

“Glad you agree.” He sets his aftershave on the counter. 

“I don’t know what to say.” My hands fall to my sides, shoulders sagging in defeat. “And you know that’s unusual for me.” I laugh but it sounds forced. “We said this wouldn’t change things, but look at us. It already has.” I frown.

He crosses his arms over his chest and leans his hip against the counter. He looks me over, trying to read what I’m thinking from my posture, and presses his lips together. “Is it the marriage that has changed things?” he asks. “Or the sex.”

I nearly choke on my own tongue. When I sober, I admit, “Both, I guess. It’s … weird.” I bite my lip, staring hard at his chest, remembering the way it felt pressed against me. “We crossed a line, and I don’t think we can uncross it.”

“So why try?” he asks as his arms fall. In one swift move, he’s in front of me, cornering me against the wall beside the door leading into my room. His eyes fall to my lips and slowly make their way back up, connecting with mine. “We can still be friends and acknowledge the fact that there’s more between us.” His fingers ghost against my chin—they touch there and gone in a second, so fast I’m not sure it really happened.

My heartbeat flutters like a frightened bird, trapped behind my ribcage and desperate to break free. I lean my head against the wall, looking up into his dark eyes. They’ve always looked at me with such … sweetness and maybe the occasional hint of lust or desire, but right now, he looks at me like I’m the answer to every question he’s ever had. 

When I don’t speak, he adds, “You’ve already agreed to stay married to me for the summer, I think that implies that we see where things go.” He grasps my hips, digging his own into my center and I can feel his hard length. I moan, holding onto his sides so I don’t collapse onto the floor. “I want you to know you can talk to me, though. You always have. Your fears, your desires, whatever it is, I’m here to listen.”

“Even when it’s about you,” I breathe.

He chuckles, tipping my chin up. “Even then.”

I lay my head against his chest and wrap my arms around his body. He hugs me back, resting his head on top of mine. I feel him exhale a deep breath and his thumbs rub soothing circles on my back. 

I step out of his embrace, and he looks me over with uncertainty shimmering in his eyes. “I’m okay,” I tell him, knowing he needs to hear it. “Promise.”

He nods once and disappears into his room.

I head into my room, smiling at the familiarity. It’s good to be home. My room is an explosion of pink and cream. Rae has never been able to get over my love for the color pink. I wouldn’t even say that I’m
that
much of a girly girl—I just like the color. 

I take a quick shower, only rinsing off my body since I showered at the hotel but felt the need to get the airplane ick off of me. 

I change into a pair of cotton pants and a loose t-shirt that slips over my shoulder. 

I grab my phone off the dresser and pad downstairs and into the kitchen. It’s a little late for lunch, but since we missed out on it from being on the flight and then the drive home, I’m
starving
.

I rustle around in the kitchen and procure everything I need to make a homemade pizza. I already have the dough laid out and am in the process of spreading the sauce when Xander saunters into the kitchen. He’s changed into a pair of sweatpants and a thin muscle shirt that I swear he’s had since high school.

“Whatcha doin’?” he asks, sliding onto one of the metal barstools that line the kitchen bar.

“I’m hungry, figured you were too. Is pizza okay?” It’s a bit late now to ask him, but whatever.

His lips quirk up on one side. “Pizza’s great—as long as there’s pepperoni.”

I hold up the plastic pack with the individually cut slices and shake it. “I’d never forget.”

He grins, clasping his hands together and laying them on the counter. 

I finish fixing the pizza and stick it in the oven. When I stand back up, I can’t help but notice that his eyes are glued to my ass. “Eyes up here, bud.” I point to my eyes.

He chuckles, not at all caring that I caught him looking.

I set the timer and place my hands on the counter in front of me so that he hopefully won’t see them shaking. I don’t want him to realize he makes me nervous. He always has. Well, maybe not
him
but what I feel for him. A part of me itches to play the part of his wife. To go to him, and stand between his legs, where he’d put his hands on my waist, and I’d kiss him. I’m sure I’ve daydreamed about that exact scenario at some point in my life, but now that I have him, it feels wrong. Not wrong in the sense of not right with him, but wrong because it feels like I’m taking advantage of our situation. I guess that’s exactly what we’re supposed to do these next few months, but I’m scared. I need him to set the pace, so I can follow his lead, but he’s probably waiting for me to do the same. It’s a tricky situation.

“A penny for your thoughts?” he asks, noting my seriousness.

I mock-gasp. “I should be offended. My thoughts are worth much more than a penny.”

He chuckles. “A quarter?”

I wince. “Still not high enough.”

He laughs, the sound rich and melodic.

Changing the subject, I say, “I bet Rae and Cade will be gone all day.”

He nods in agreement. “I’m sure.”

“You know what that means?” I waggle my brows.

He grins cockily. “Baby, if you wanted sex you didn’t need to be coy about it.”

I grab a dishtowel off the counter and swat him with it. He laughs even as the cloth slaps his skin. “
No
. It means we can watch a movie. We never get the TV to ourselves.”

He grins. “I liked my idea better.”

“Of course you did.” I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I hate him for bringing up the topic of sex, because now all I can think about is the smooth feel of his skin beneath my hands and our bodies moving together. I bite my lip, suppressing a moan at my naughty thoughts.

Xander says huskily, “If you keep standing there with that look on your face, I’m going to have to fuck you on the kitchen counter.”

My breath catches and his eyes flick to my lips. The gesture is like a bomb going off. I don’t know which of us moves first, but suddenly, I’m in his arms, and his lips press to mine, kissing me like I’m the air he desperately needs. My body is pressed flush to his, my soft to his hard, and I grasp his arms, holding on so that I don’t fall.

He tips my chin back, and my butt presses into the counter as he pushes against me. He grasps my hips and lifts me up, standing in the open space between my legs. My fingers delve into his silky hair, drawing him closer to me. More, I need more. 

I can’t think, can’t seem to do anything other than focus on the feel of his lips against mine.

His fingers dig into my hips, but I don’t mind. The pressure keeps me grounded.

“Xander,” I moan his name into his mouth, and he nips my bottom lip.

My arms wind around his neck and I arch my body, pressing my breasts into his chest.

His hands ghost up my sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. 

He kisses his way down my neck and my head falls to the side, welcoming the press of his lips. My breaths come out as short pants, because he’s effectively stolen all the air in my lungs.

He cups my face, staring into my lust-filled eyes.

Xander has always been the one guy to make me weak in the knees. No one has ever measured up to him, and now that I’ve had a taste, I know no one ever will.

He kisses me once, just a brief press of his lips, but even still it feels as powerful as the passionate kiss we shared moments before. My body shakes, but it’s not with nerves like before; no, this is something more powerful, something I’m scared to even understand.

He tilts my chin up with a press of his finger, and my eyes meet his. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers. “Of me. Of us.”

I swallow thickly. “I don’t know where we go from here,” I admit. 

My feelings are all over the place. I feel conflicted because who
really
wants to be married at nineteen, but this is Xander—the boy I’ve lusted after my whole life. There’s no one I love or trust more, so maybe this is some twist of fate bringing us together or something, but I always come back to the marriage thing. 

Marriage is a big deal—at least to me, anyway—and not something to be taken lightly. And as much as I love Xander, as much as I always have, I don’t know if I’m really
in
love with him. It’s not like I know him enough in the romantic sense to feel that way.

But damn it, I
want
to get to know him that way.

I want to go on dates, and get flowers, and fall into bed together at night. 

I just don’t know if I want it like
this
. 

I feel like it’s fate’s way of mocking me—give me the guy I’ve always wanted but with one big ass string attached. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Xander chants, breaking into my thoughts. “Where’d you go? Down the rabbit hole, I presume?”

My lips twitch with the threat of a smile. “Something like that.”

Luckily, the timer goes off and saves me from further inquisition.

I know I can’t avoid talking to him about my thoughts forever, but right now, I need more time to think through things on my own.